


Polaris

by feralphoenix



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralphoenix/pseuds/feralphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The full moon's daughter and the evening star sat down to talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polaris

**Author's Note:**

> _(your heart is made of steel_ – wish I may, wish I might)

The others have all since gone to sleep: She alone is left awake, and Duke beside her, gazing at her blandly beneath half-closed eyelids. His hair spills across the sheets where he lies on his side, and here with the lights off he seems almost one with them—a creature carved from marble.

All but for the deep green comma of blastia right at the base of his ribs, the proof that he like Raven is alive only by grace of the Spirits. She remembers it vaguely from the final battle and the form he took then, but here it is sobering: A thick swath of polished dead stone sweeps out over Duke’s back.

She should know from years of anatomy books what it means, but somehow her conscious mind gets caught on the fact that the blastia goes straight through his body, and she’s fearful almost of rationalizing out what parts of him are missing that a substitution in stone was necessary.

Perhaps it’s because they were able to cajole him into joining them here in the end, or because of the neutral look on his face that’s not quite indifference—but she’s able to reach out a hand, and brush her fingers against the skin that meets the heavy gold border and stone. And, finally, she’s able to vocalize the words that she never even could to Raven.

“Is it painful?”

Duke doesn’t respond in words—but then again, she doesn’t really expect him to. He closes his eyes, black lashes thick as lace on his white doll’s cheeks, and breathes out slowly and steadily. His skin is warm underneath her fingers. The blastia shell is cold.


End file.
